


drown me

by glitches



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Minor Character Death, Moral Ambiguity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 05:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17554136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitches/pseuds/glitches
Summary: Five years could do many things to a grudge — tone it down, fuel it, or in Kougami's case, twist it into something unrecognizeable. Whatever it was, he vowed Makishima Shougo would die at his hands.





	drown me

**Author's Note:**

> Another commission...haha...I promise I will eventually post something that isn't a commission, but until then, I had a lot of fun with this one. Kougami and Makishima are a very fun to write dynamic so thank you again Flynn for making this possible ♥.

Few infamous pirates could boast that they had captured another, _more_ infamous pirate —mostly due to luck, but Kougami wasn’t going to admit it was anything less than prowess— and was currently holding them captive in his cabin. The sea had been unpredictable the past weeks, with storms swallowing up the ships of neophytes and veterans alike. A few marine vessels had vanished, and even less pirate ones as the latter gave the waters more respect when it came to her moods.

It wasn’t that Kougami didn’t respect the sea. Perhaps he did more than anyone, and that was why he ventured into the unknown while at her mercy. If it was for him to die swallowed by the waves then he would welcome it, but it hadn’t happened yet, which to him was a good enough sign to keep going in his search for a place to call his own. Obviously, he hadn’t been the only one fearless enough to navigate, as evidenced by his awfully nonchalant prisoner.

Makishima Shougo, otherwise known as the White Terror. His crew had boarded and robbed over thirty ships since spring, and the winter weather hadn’t settled yet; there weren’t many that got to fight him head on and live to tell the tale, and in all honesty, Kougami was proud to be counted among those people. It wasn’t their first meeting, not by far. Kougami dragged himself a seat in front of Makishima, who had been tied up next to his bed, and grinned wide at him.

**—**

They met for the first time five years ago, when Kougami wasn’t captain yet, but second in command at the board of a smaller ship of overly enthusiastic sailors that thought they were good enough to be pirates. Thinking back, they weren’t even good enough to be sailors. It was the night after their very first successful big haul. Sugar, spices, jewelry and fine fabrics, all safeguarded now in nailed tight boxes that were to be transported to the nearest port for exchange.

It was a huge reason for celebration, of course. Kougami had retired with the captain inside his cabin and were going through one of the fine bottles of wine that were kept for special occasions. As childhood friends, the two of them prefered to have a more private party while the rest of the crew was singing back on deck. He was a fun man of wide smiles —Kougami was convinced that that was his downfall. A pirate that is too careless always ends up at the bottom of the freezing sea.

They were past drunk and only half undressed when the ship swayed dangerously, threatening to tip over. Even in his drunken haze Kougami had realized that another ship was ramming into them, and the frenetic shouts from above were enough to confirm his suspicions. The rest of the night was but a savage blur of yelling, swords clashing against swords, and watching those who were his friends lose their heads or be thrown over the board with seemingly inhuman ease by their attackers.

It was a lost fight from the beginning. The enemy captain didn’t set a single foot on their ship until the bloodbath was over, as if not to dirty the unfittingly beautiful white garments that they were wearing. Kougami was somehow still alive, part of a pile of otherwise dead bodies, struggling to remain conscious and make it out of there somehow. More importantly, _his_ captain was still breathing, though knocked down on his knees and with two enemy blades pinning his hands to the wooden floors. Even so, he was still wearing his signature mocking grin.

“If it isn’t the White Terror of the seas himself,” he spat out. “What brings you to my humble ship, other than mindless murder?”

“Boredom, and a hunch.” Makishima had replied. His eyes weren’t on the captain, but scouring the rest of the ship and gazing from time to time at the pile of dead bodies where Kougami was unwillingly hiding, like he was looking for something, _someone_. Kougami was convinced that their eyes had undoubtedly met, and that despite all his playing dead the White Terror could tell he was alive. No sign of such knowledge, however. “So you are the captain of this bunch. Sasayama, was it? You made a name for yourself as a magnificent pirate, but I see it was all baseless boasting.”

Sasayama laughed. “Oh, you know, in this business you have to flex even the muscles you don’t have. The sooner you seem dangerous the better.”

“Big mouths lead to nothing when they cannot support their words. Alas, it seems my hunch was wrong. How disappointing.” Makishima took a hand sculpted cane from the side of his waist, and with a click it revealed to be actually a sword sheath. The blade inside was long and thin, almost reminiscent of a rapier, but it had to have been forged under very specific commands as well.

Seeing its glimmer in the moonlight was enough to make Kougami forget that he was dying. Too late, too slow, and by the time he had yelled Sasayama’s name, grabbed a sword and motioned to attack the White Terror, his friend’s head was rolling towards Kougami’s feet. It was then that the two of them stared into each other’s eyes fully aware of each other, Kougami’s expression of pure anger and Makishima’s mixture of surprise and excitement painting a picture that would mark the beginning of something even Kougami couldn’t comprehend.

Whatever it was, he made an oath that night. Makishima Shougo would die at his hands.

**—**

Okay, so it _had_ been luck. Up until then, Makishima had always been a step ahead of him —Kougami wasn’t actively looking for the pirate, though they always seemed to have the same ideas and the same course of actions. At that point it was almost expected to bump into one another. He doubted that Makishima was following him around, either, so it was the first thing that Kougami didn’t understand. It was almost like they were some sort of hivemind, as if their thought processes were so similar that they might as well be one and the same.

When Kougami thought striking a deal with a certain noble would be beneficial to his routes and the amount of supplies, Makishima was already there, shaking the man’s hand. Kougami had had his victories, too, like making it first to raiding a known Spanish royal vessel until there was only floating splinters for Makishima to find. Despite that the tallies were highly in favor of Makishima; Kougami didn’t only want to kill him anymore, he wanted to do it after proving himself superior.

It had to be the reason why this person he hated so much, helpless and at his mercy, was still breathing and looking up at him without a care in the world. If they could truly read each other so well, then Makishima knew what Kougami was thinking, and was having a fantastic time with the turn of events. After all, Kougami was quite unhappy that this was how he’d gotten his hands on Makishima. A violent storm, an unfortunate wave, and the White Terror’s ship crashed into a rocky death. Kougami’s own vessel happened to be nearby, braving the waves towards his destination, when they initiated a dangerous rescue mission.

His men had doubted him, but Kougami wouldn’t let anyone but him kill Makishima, not even the sea. It wasn’t a true victory. Kougami hadn’t earned the right to stain his coat red. Despite the grin he was wearing, his mind was in a bit of a turmoil. What now? After all, the reason he survived, the reason he spent all these years honing all of his skills was to face this man as equals. This wasn’t what he wanted. He noticed himself clasping his tongue in annoyance, something that didn’t escape Makishima’s eyes. The neutral expression on his face turned into a slight smile.

“What seems to be the problem, Shinya?” He moved for a bit of comfort, leaning backwards into the boards of the wall. The ship was swaying almost like a lullaby and the atmosphere was silent compared to the usual noisy pirate chatter that would filter even down there.

“None,” Kougami replied almost immediately. He wanted to press his foot into Makishima’s chest, to remind him who had the upper hand, but kept still as to not give the other any sort of leverage.

“Forced grin, slightly furrowed brow, your nose is slightly scrunched up, there is a problem.”

“I could say the same about you, then.” Kougami crossed his arms in a stance somewhere between comfort and being defensive.

“Please, do humor me.”

“You have been silent since I brought you in, despite your usual pleasure in starting long conversations as soon as you see me.”

At that, Makishima couldn’t help but let out a brief laugh, and then looked back into Kougami’s eyes. The caramel eyes looked golden into the light of the candles nearby, swaying with a playfulness not many would consider normal in people their age. It was a provocation, but at the same time it helped Kougami know that he had hit jackpot —Makishima was just as bothered by the turn of events as he was, wasn’t he?  It was obvious that something right then made them both feel out of place, as if their routine had been broken. Technically, it had.

This was ridiculous. Kougami got up from the chair and knelt behind Makishima to cut the rope that was binding his wrists with a pocket knife. At the other pirate’s slight confusion, he simply stood back up and shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “You can’t do much in your current situation. Don’t see any reason to keep you tied up.” Even without a crew and unarmed, Kougami didn’t doubt Makishima could kill him if he truly wanted to. He could sense that for the time being he had nothing to worry about, however, and didn’t think being bound suit him at all.

Once free, Makishima took his place on the chair, and Kougami resigned to sitting on his bed instead so they would be at the same level. Silence settled between them again, each weighing their options. The same question had to be floating in their minds. _What now_? Kougami measured the White Terror with his eyes, patient yet curious. They knew each other at a more than personal level. They were always meeting, always fighting, always talking while steel clashed with steel, the kind of conversation gentlemen would have in front of a boiling hot cup of tea.

They had never sat like that in front of each other, stripped of all the barriers. Without the desire to fight and to avenge being first for once, Kougami was looking at Makishima with different eyes. That was also something he didn’t comprehend. It was as if they were meant to be in that place, at that time, together, and it was throwing both of them off.

Kougami was the very opposite of a romantic; he had never fallen in love, and knew he never would. His affections for Sasayama and all his other flings had been different. Even now, when studying Makishima, he didn’t feel some surge of affection that he thought would uncloud this mystery once and for all. No, Kougami still hated him, but it wasn’t the vengeful hate from the beginning. It reminded him of the same emotion he felt when he saw himself in a mirror and spotted something he didn’t like.

Makishima was meant to be there as much as his reflection, a constant reminder to Kougami of his own flaws, but sometimes of his ‘good’ traits as well, or at least whatever he considered likeable. Dammit. He opened his mouth to say something to get rid of this sudden feeling of suffocation, but thankfully Makishima got ahead of him.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

Kougami furrowed his brow. “You know why.”

“I do, but I was hoping to hear it from your mouth. You can be quite the sentimental man, Shinya, but in such specific conditions. When I think you will care about something, you don’t, and the same applies to the opposite. It doesn’t bother me that this is how it ends.” Makishima shrugged his shoulders.

“Well it bothers _me_. We’ve been playing this game for five years now.”

“And?” Makishima smiled, and it shined up his features. There was no questioning it that he was very beautiful, at least to Kougami. It wasn’t a conventional beauty, but one that was impossible to ignore once he had noticed it. Right, he had asked a question.

“And I’ve never felt so alive than when we clash. If I kill you right now, I die, too.” Kougami said with no hesitation, though it didn’t mean he wasn’t taken aback by the weight of his own words. They were having their first honest conversation, not hidden behind talks of politics, of books, of unimportant things like how they felt about certain flowers or people they would probably never meet again.

Makishima looked slightly relieved. Odd.

“That wasn’t half as cheesy as what I was expecting you would say. Pray tell, I would’ve walked the plank willingly had it been.”

Not that odd. Kougami showed his teeth in a more genuine grin than his bad attempt at the beginning of their evening. If he had strange things to be emotional about, Kougami considered that Makishima had strange things to be worried about. He’d used it to his advantage before, so he would do it again. Their fights, their banter, it _was_ fun and a part of Kougami’s life. For a brief second, he wondered if —ah, no way.

“That said,” Makishima continued, “I will make an exception, just this once, and tell you what crossed my mind.”

“...When?” Kougami asked, though he feared he knew the answer.

“Five years ago, on Sasayama’s boat. When you attacked me and we looked at each other, I knew you would be the one to cure my boredom. So I took a gamble and threw you into the ocean. If you came back to kill me, then I was right.”

Kougami stared at him. Makishima took it as a sign to keep talking.

“I don’t play around with my prey for several years if they aren’t worth my time, Shinya. I’m not disappointed that you caught me and might finally end this charade; if anything, my only regret is that it hasn’t lasted longer.”

Whatever else that could have been said next was kept silent. Kougami’s hands had reached for Makishima, and pulled him onto the bed. Kougami was leaning over him with eagerness though patient enough to make sure it was welcome, and once the eye contact confirmed it, pressed their lips together. The kiss tasted a mix of sour and sweet, and when Makishima had bitten into his lower lip it acquired a metallic taste as well. There wasn’t anything soft about it, but it was still careful, learning. It lasted until both of them ran out of air and more.

Makishima didn’t look as pale, with some blood having rushed to his face. He was wearing a serene expression, and Kougami couldn’t help to run his thumb over Makishima’s cheek, who was looking at him with amusement. In the end, neither had lost nor won. They were back at step one, because this wasn’t a game that could end. Not yet, not when they both needed it to be alive. If Kougami never had any shame, now it existed even less.

“I see now. You’re my soulmate.” He said very casually. He should’ve noticed before. Two people who were bound so desperately, by love or not, couldn’t be something else.

Makishima made a face. “Where’s the plank?”

Kougami laughed, and kissed him again. That seemed to lessen Makishima’s distaste for the words he chose, though Kougami feared he was a bit on thin ice. Better. The more dangerous to keep Makishima at his side, the better. “You ever heard of a pirate crew with two captains, Shougo?” He finally said the other’s name, cheeky and proud of the way that it rolled off his tongue.

“One, or two. They ended poorly.” Makishima reached up to undress Kougami of his coat. “Unless that’s exactly what you want.”

“I can live with a challenge.”

Makishima hummed, the candlelight drawing shadows over his smile.  “I would love to see that. Very well, Kougami Shinya; let’s see how you can keep me entertained from now on. If I get bored even a little, I wish you luck finding me again.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Kougami mumbled in the warmth of his cabin and their tangling bodies.

Makishima Shougo would die at his hands, without a doubt, but only when Kougami would be satisfied to dive a knife between his ribs, and his own spirit with fade away with that heartbeat that was so strongly filling his room with the song of an undeniable bond.


End file.
